Wanting to forget
by mashamallows
Summary: Tony Stark has a stupid idea that gets Natasha de-aged. Watch 5 grown-ass men try to deal with a little girl, one who can literally kill them with her pinkie. child!nat uncles!avengers dad!tony /deals with heavy themes, lots of fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my first time writing for this fandom! Needless to say, I'm very excited!**

 **So, this story is kind of AU, obviously. The Avengers were assembled as a prevention mechanism to defend the earth. So, no threat yet basically (the attack of new york didn't happen, nor did Ultron, the civil war, infinity war, none of those.) Got it? Good.**

 **In this universe, Natasha is the leader of the Avengers. They aren't as close as in the movies since they don't know each other that well. They all live in the tower. What else? Guess you have to read to find out.**

* * *

Tony Stark has had enough. He couldn't do it anymore.

Explosions. Ashes. Dust. Dust everywhere, flying around him, getting into his lungs, setting them on fire. He felt himself stop breathing, the dust settling around him slowly.

Bodies. The streets were littered with bodies. He didn't know where he was. He didn't care. He heard a gasp and looked around him. Steve.

Bloodied. Taking his last breath.

He couldn't- he couldn't look- he's dead.

He saw it. His chest heaving with his last sigh. He caused this.

He heard a scream, high pitched. _'Natasha.'_ He was right. He turned around and saw her standing, clutching her chest, tears streaming down her face. She was sobbing. Blood was seeping through her fingers, down her clothes, on the sidewalk. She fell to her knees, and Tony couldn't get to her, and there was fire again, and screams and Natasha sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, till she fell back, dead. Her blood a halo around her, and Tony couldn't help but scream, scream till his lungs were _scorched_ , he wanted to set himself on _fire_ , his friends- his friends- no, no, no-

"TONY!"

 _'Not you too-'_

Pepper stumbled to him, her face darkened with soot, dirt, and despair. She threw herself in his arms, and looked in his eyes, her breath quickening.

"Tony, save me, save me, save-"

And she fell to the ground, gasping, rolling around, until a shot rang, and she stilled, her face forever frozen in an expression of terror, a bullet lodged in her brain.

Tony could see the "Stark" signature on the bullets raining around him, and he fell to his knees.

In a hail of bullets, he screamed, and screamed, till-

He woke up. He jolted awake in his bed, panting, his eyes darting around him, searching for the bodies and the fire and the blood and _death._ He was met with the calm darkness that was his bedroom.

Pepper was snoring softly next to him, her diamond ring glinting in the moonlight seeping through their half-open curtains. The ever-so-present reminder of her engagement to him- to a _murderer_.

He shook his head, trying to calm his still racing heart. He didn't need a heart attack right now. He needed a drink.

He got out of bed, stumbling slightly, and made his way towards the elevator. He pressed the 47th button, the button that lead to the common floor of the Avengers. In other words, where the bourbon was.

He swayed to the gentle elevator music, his dream replaying behind his closed eyelids.

When the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to be met by the gentle crackling and the orange glow of the artificial fireplace that Clint had begged him to install.

He approached slowly, wanting to turn it off, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Natasha on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders, and a book in her hands.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to surprise her, even though he knew that she had spotted him long ago. She wasn't a super spy for nothing.

"It's 3 am Stark. What are you doing up?" She asked in a neutral, almost annoyed voice, and Tony felt his skin bristle.

"Sorry if I'm annoying you, the person who's living under my roof, without paying a damn cent. I didn't know I wasn't allowed to go where I damn well please in my own place."

Natasha wasn't impressed. "You know that if it wasn't an order from Fury, I wouldn't be here."

Tony sighed, passing a hand through his hair. He decided to drop it, knowing that Natasha's passive-aggressiveness wasn't what he needed to calm down. He made his way to the bar and started looking for his favorite whiskey bottle.

That apparently caught Natasha's attention, who dropped her book and got up, sitting down in front of the bar.

Tony automatically got two glasses, filling them with the golden liquid, passing one to Natasha.

"Nightmare?" She whispered to him, and if he concentrated really hard, he could discern a faint hint of concern in her eyes.

"Yeah. The usual. Everyone dead because of me and my weapons."

Natasha nodded, a faraway look in her eyes that she always seemed to have when she sipped alcohol.

He wondered if spies could be melancholic, or even have feelings. He is certain he's never seen her smile a genuine fucking smile in his life. Those smirks of superiority didn't count, of course. He couldn't believe Fury assigned this woman of all people to be their leader.

True, she was really good at what she did. And she was the cleverest person he knew. And she could take down the hulk without breaking a sweat. And she was the most diplomatic person on their team. And she had more training than any of them. _Still._

She was an ice queen. Cold, mean, uncaring. She couldn't care less if one of them died. The only thing important to her was the mission's success. That didn't exactly sit well with someone like him. He had killed so many people in his life- he just wanted the killing to _stop_.

He downed his glass in one gulp, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Natasha.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" She drawled slowly as if those words hurt to get out.

She was so unused to caring that it was painful to try, Tony thought, teeth clenched.

"With you? No, thanks." He rolled his eyes, then the image of dream Natasha flashed before his eyes.

Bloodied, crying- sobbing. So many _raw_ emotions in her eyes he could drown in them. In her heartbreak. He didn't know where his mind got that image of Natasha from. It couldn't be more wrong.

She hung her head, looking at her glass, and swirled the liquid in it, as if deep in thought. There it was again, that haunted look. The only human emotions Natasha Romanoff ever showed. He didn't know if she noticed that her eyes did that... that _thing_ , where they would reflect her whole soul. She may be the queen of emotionless bitching, but she had the clearest, _greenest_ eyes Tony's ever seen.

Tony narrowed his eyes, a sudden thought crossing his mind.

"What were _you_ doing here?" He asked, suspicion seeping through his voice. He couldn't make himself trust her. She had saved his ass many times, more than he could count, but after he heard the rumors, that she was in the Russian mob before joining S.H.I.E.L.D, he couldn't shake away the thought that she could kill all of them in their sleep and get away with it.

"Reading..?" She said it in a way that screamed 'isn't it obvious, you moron?'

"At 3 am?"

"What, am I not allowed to read whenever I damn well please?" She smirked, reusing his own words against him.

He gritted his teeth in hatred but said nothing.

"I don't sleep, Stark," she surprised him by saying that in an almost human voice. Almost.

"You... Don't? What the fuck does that mean?"

She chuckled darkly. "My mind never stops screaming."

His heart almost stopped. Nightmares. She had nightmares too.

He suddenly felt some kind of relationship establish between them. Some sort of... camaraderie. They were both damaged goods, though he didn't know the extent of the damage she had to endure.

He nodded, looking at her with newfound respect.

"Do you... Would you forget, if you had the chance?" He asked suddenly, after their third glass each.

"I don't think the world works like that, Stark," she said, looking down at her restless hands. They had been tapping the bar in a rhythmic manner for almost 15 minutes now. It was starting to make Tony nervous. He didn't know if she was doing that on purpose to annoy him, or if it was one of her rare (maybe her only) quirk.

"Still, if it _did_ -"

"Then, I guess I would rather forget, yes," she answered in a tone that told him that she definitely did _not_ want to talk about this anymore.

"If I... If I invented a machine that could make us forget... Would you try it with me?"

Natasha smirked her haughty smirk again. "You're drunk Stark, go to sleep."

It had a hint of sadness to it, one that Tony couldn't detect before. Either that or he was _really_ drunk.

"Whatever you say, Romanoff." He downed the last of his drink and got up.

"Goodnight, Tony," she threw after him, making him stop in his tracks.

"Night, Natasha," he whispered, the idea settling in his mind. He would make them forget.

He went to his lab instead of his bedroom that night and did the same the three following weeks.

He worked tirelessly to create a machine that could split their memories into categories- _folders_ , almost like a computer, and they would be able to choose which to delete, and which to keep.

Theoretically, that is. It didn't... exactly fulfill its purpose. Let me elaborate.

He had been working for 25 days now -Pepper was counting- when he thought he had something.

He excitedly turned the contraption in his hands, looking at it from every angle. He was very happy with it. It basically looked like a high-tech blue headband. It was actually pretty stylish if he dared say so himself.

The idea was that it would scan the brain for memories, which would come up on his computer screen. Then they would select which memories to delete, and hit the brain with radiation -sounds stupid, he knows, but he actually studied the shit, and he thought it to be pretty plausible. Plus, he's never wrong. He's Tony Stark, remember?

He called Natasha down, practically buzzing with excitement. He hadn't told anyone what he's been doing for days in his lab. Everyone thought he was upgrading the Iron Man suit. He couldn't _wait_ to see Natasha's face- oh, here she was.

And she looked positively pissed.

"Stark, I was in the middle of a conference with Fury and the council. What could be so important as to warrant an emergency summon?" She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"I did it, Romanoff!" He jumped off his chair and ran to her, shaking her by the shoulders. "I did it!"

She just stared at him, at a loss.

"I created the machine that can erase bad memories!" He grinned at her with his boyish, excited grin that he knew no one could resist. Apparently, Natasha could.

"Stark, that's... You were drunk. I didn't think you would actually do it." She ran a hand through her straight flaming red hair that brushed her chin.

"I did! Please Natasha can you try it?" He made his best puppy dog eyes- to no avail.

"Are you _kidding_ me? What if it does something weird, like electrocute me, or change my hair color, _again_?" She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled sheepishly. So she still remembered that...

"That was a prank! It was intended. It didn't malfunction."

"That doesn't exactly help your case, you know."

"Please, Nat. Please, please, _please_." He joined his hands in front of him, practically begging her. "It will just scan your head for memories. Nothing dangerous, I swear. We won't even try to delete anything just yet!"

She looked at the headband in his hands, then back up at his face. He seemed honest. He had that innocent glow in his brown eyes that simply melted Natasha's heart- not that she would ever admit it.

She sighed and slipped it on, looking at Tony expectantly. "Never call me Nat again." Her eyes hardened for a brief second, and Tony shrunk instinctively under her gaze.

"Understood." He nodded, wincing a bit.

She sighed and decided to change the subject. "Are they supposed to show up as _videos_ , or something?" She asked disbelievingly, almost mockingly.

"It's not even _on_ , silly. And yes, that's the idea." He turned to his monitor, and cracked his knuckles, grinning like a child on Christmas. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." She rolled her eyes and looked at the monitor.

Tony turned on the headband from his computer and waited a few seconds. His screen remained blank.

"Hm, that's weird," he whispered, then turned to Natasha. "I'm sorry, I don't think-"

He immediately stopped talking when he saw her face contort in pain.

She hissed, falling to her knees, clutching her head. She tried to claw the headband off, but it seemed stuck. Then in a flash of light, she was gone.

In her stead, was a pale, frail little girl, with the clearest, _greenest_ eyes he's ever seen. She was crying.

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 **Shit turned around real quick. Hope you liked it! What will the others' reactions be when they see tiny Nat?**

 **Reviews warm my heart :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you for the overwhelming feedback I got from chap 1! Thank you so much, I love you :3**

 **Ps. The Russian Part is actually accurate- had a Russian friend translate it for me.**

 **Without further ado, enjoy!**

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Tony was at an absolute loss. He stared at the young girl in front of him, his mouth agape, his mind running wild. What the actual _fuck_ just happened? One second Natasha was here, the next... this _child_ was. His machine absolutely _cannot_ do what it just... did.

Baby Romanoff was staring at him right back, her green eyes filled with tears.

He contemplated actually making a run for it. He had the money to fake his death (although he doesn't need to- death by Romanoff is very plausible) and hide for the rest of his days in Poland or something. It would be less painful than having to deal with Fury's wrath when he finds out what happened, or Natasha's when (if?) she gets back to normal. He was _so_ screwed.

He gulped audibly, and stalked towards Natasha slowly, waving his hands in the air in the international "I surrender and I'm unarmed" sign. He knew Natasha started training at a very young age, so he didn't know if this child was a trained assassin, or if she was simply a kid with no memory whatsoever of her old life. She could either be a blank slate, or a replay button. And either way, Older Natasha was gonna have his head.

The little girl/master assassin looked up at him, pure terror on her face. She looked like your average toddler, with big cheeks, and long flaming red hair (Tony didn't know that red was her natural color, and that _genuinely_ almost gave him whiplash). She was wearing the shirt Older Natasha was wearing before she... transformed, though it looked more like a dress on her than anything else at the moment.

He crouched down in front of her, smiling gently. He started reaching for her, trying to soothe her, when he noticed something... almost _odd_ in her expression. He couldn't quite place it. Something was wrong.

He narrowed his eyes, and looked closer at her face. Tears were rolling down her fat cheeks (he didn't realize Romanoff had so much baby fat- he was _so_ gonna hang this over her head), her full lips in an adorable pout. That was when he finally noticed what was wrong. Her eyes were completely dull. Her face screamed terror, while her eyes were neutral pools of... determination?

Oh, _fuck_.

Natasha seemed to notice his realization, and quickly sprung into action. Faster than he could even see, she roundhouse kicked his side, and he fell to the ground with a groan.

She was on him in a second, straddling his chest, a knife in her hand, just under his throat.

The most terrifying was that her face had morphed into a neutral expression- almost bored.

Tony gulped, and saw her arch an eyebrow, and look around her.

"Господин? Я закончила. Можно мне его отпустить?" She asked in a monotonous voice that sent chills down his spine.

"Jarvis? JARVIS! What the fuck is she saying?" He yelled and thrashed in panic, but Baby Romanoff pressed her knife closer to his Adam's apple, making him sweat like Steve Rogers on a date.

"Sir, she said 'master? I'm done. Should I release him now?' Anything else, Sir?" The A.I said calmly, like Tony wasn't on the verge of being killed by a child.

Natasha's head snapped up to the ceiling, curiosity etched on her face.

She conversed with Jarvis for a few seconds, before Tony snapped.

"JARVIS. Enlighten me, buddy."

"She asked me who I was, Sir, and I answered that I'm Jarvis, an artificial intelligence."

"Charming," Tony grumbled, before sighing. "Tell her this isn't a test before she kills me."

Jarvis relayed his words to Natasha, whose eyes narrowed immediately at the words.

She said something back at Jarvis, who didn't waste a second before saying it into his calm, collected British accent:

"She's saying 'I don't believe you.'"

It all took a split of a second. He remembered the training that Natasha herself had bestowed upon him (she had kicked his ass repeatedly, but he firmly believed that he acquired at least _some_ of her skills) and pushed the child off him, before she could slit his throat. He rolled to the side, his arms brought up in front of his face to protect himself.

Natasha smirked, a gesture that eerily reminded him of Romanoff herself, and lunged at him.

"Where the _fuck_ did you even find a knife?" He yelled, dodging attempt after attempt from the small menace.

"I believe she found the knife that Miss Romanoff always carries around with her, Sir."

He _really_ hated Jarvis right then.

He stumbled to his desk, the redhead hot on his heels.

He almost tripped, but still got a hold of his iron man glove, which was laying on the desk desperately waiting for an update.

He prayed to whatever god was out there that it would work, and fired at baby Romanoff, who screamed, and fell unconscious on the ground, red seeping through her oversized shirt.

Okay, he had to admit this wasn't his smartest move.

"FUCK." He ran to her, holding her shoulders, and shaking her desperately. "NATASHA! No, no, no, kid, don't do that-"

"Sir, should I call Miss Potts?" Jarvis asked smoothly, making Stark's heart beat even faster in terror. What will Pepper do when she sees that he killed Natasha?

"Yeah- Yeah, do that. I'll... I'll, uh, yeah, medical wing. I'll be in the medical wing."

Patting himself on the back for installing a damn hospital in his tower (complete with x-ray and MRI machines, a lab for testing, and even an operating room), he scooped baby Natasha in his arms and ran to the elevator and repeatedly pushed the button that would lead him there.

To say he was panicking was an understatement.

He looked down at the child in his arms, and couldn't help bringing her closer to his chest, muttering "it's gonna be okay," repeatedly, though he didn't know if he was trying to calm himself, or the unconscious child. Probably himself.

He arrived to the medical wing after what seemed like hours. His chest was covered in red by now, and Natasha was as white as a sheet (which was saying a lot, since she was Russian, for god's sake- she usually looked as pale as a vampire), her breath coming ragged and shallow.

"BRUCE!" Tony screamed, almost tripping over his own feet as he ran into the man's lab.

Bruce was calmly sitting behind his desk, writing something down in his notebook. He looked up in alarm when he heard the desperate yell, and his eyes widened at the sight.

"Tony- what the-"

"BRUCE! SHE'S DYING!" Tony heaved, tears streaming down his face. He looked very close to having a heart attack.

Bruce looked at the child in his arms, and took her, settling her into his own, and ran outside the room, not even questioning who she was, or how the fuck Stark managed to get himself tangled into this mess.

With baby Romanoff and the worry lifted, respectively, from his arms, and his shoulders, Tony fell in a chair in the waiting room outside the man's office, short of breath, tears still drying on his cheeks. He didn't know what prompted the crying- he didn't like the woman/child, whatever form she was. He could confidently say, without a shadow of a doubt, that he hated her guts. She tried to _kill_ him, for god's sake, as a child _and_ as an adult. They weren't on the best of terms.

But seeing her innocent, chubby face contort into shock and pain when she was hit by his laser was definitely seared into his mind now. Oh, joy. More nightmares.

If she doesn't make it, Natasha would be his first actual kill. The first person he killed with his own two hands, not via his weapons, with the hands of someone else. He looked at the ceiling, his eyes filling with more tears.

Just then, the elevator opened, and Pepper ran in, pure panic on her face.

"Tony!" She exclaimed, worry tainting her beautiful features, when she saw him slumped over in his chair, crying.

She ran to him and hugged him as hard as she could, and caressed his hair, muttering comforting words in his ear.

When she heard Jarvis calmly announce that Tony had severely injured Agent Romanoff with his Iron Man Gauntlet, she hadn't believed it at first. She genuinely laughed and asked Jarvis if it was another prank Tony was pulling on her (he _did_ almost make her believe that he killed Cap once). His response chilled her to the core.

"Mr. Stark is in the medical wing and Dr. Banner is doing everything he can."

Bruce _never_ gets involved in Tony's shenanigans. That was when she started running towards the elevator, telling Jarvis to alert every avenger, especially Clint and Peter.

Clint was Natasha's partner and best friend (though she didn't actually understand _how_ exactly one can be friends with Natasha Romanoff, much less best friends), and Peter started to bond with the spy when she once suggested training him and sparring with him. She never held back on him once just because he was a kid, like all the other avengers do, and always respected him as a sparring partner. Natasha probably didn't know, but the kid _idolized_ her.

As Tony cried on her shoulder, she mentally started making a list of possible lawyers to hire against S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury would go _hard_ on their asses. He loved Natasha. He considered her his daughter, and did everything she asked. He spoiled her with missions and equipment, and if he ever heard someone say something bad about her, he would fire their ass faster than they could say sorry.

"Tony- Tony, honey, talk to me," she whispered softly, her hand still in his hair.

He looked up at her, his eyes red-rimmed, and his face crunched in sorrow.

"She- she tried to kill me- I... Pepper, I messed up. I messed up-" He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He knew he had to tell Pepper that Natasha wasn't... the Natasha they knew, and fast, before she whooped his ass to France.

"Remember the machine told you I was working on?" He took a deep breath, and Pepper's hands in his own.

She nodded, narrowing her eyes. She didn't see the relevance of it right now. Maybe Natasha found out about it and they had a fight? She knew in the back of her head that, despite her fiancé's childishness and Agent Romanoff's cruelty, they wouldn't _actually_ try to kill each other. They were a team... Right?

"I... I came up with the idea while I was drinking with Romanoff one night." He chuckled bitterly, rubbing his neck "She has nightmares too," he added to explain the weird situation. "So I call her down to test the finished product. She puts it on and- Pepper I swear I was sure it would work, okay? You know me, I'm never wrong with these things!"

"Wait, so your invention killed Agent Romanoff?" Pepper asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She's not dead yet!" He exclaimed, his breathing becoming faster. He stood up and started pacing. "She puts it on and then Bam! I don't know how or why, but suddenly, fucking baby Romanoff was standing in front of me. She SHRUNK, Pepper! I swear to fucking god, I was never as afraid as I was right then."

Pepper's jaw was slack.

"Pepper! You know I wouldn't lie about something like this! I swear to you! She just- She just transformed into a fucking _kid_! I started approaching her, because she was crying, and she fucking _flips-_ She tries to kill my ass. I don't know what they taught her at assassin's school, but she thought it was a test, or something- Pepper, she's just as deadly as a child as she is as an adult, but she's even _faster,_ fuck."

Pepper nods along, dumbly. She was honestly speechless. Tony ignored her and continued rambling.

The other avengers, along with Peter, were standing in front of the elevator, listening to Stark's far-fetched explanation, mouths agape.

Tony didn't even notice. "She kicks me and pulls a fucking _knife_ \- A KNIFE! From god knows where. So, I try to defend myself, you know, because I don't wanna _die_ , and I grab the first weapon that fell under my hand, my iron man gauntlet- and I - I-"

Pepper apparently regained her ability to speak once she heard that last bit. She was livid- paler than Baby Natasha, if that was even possible. "Please don't tell me you blasted a child."

"You- You _believe_ me?! Oh thank god-"

"TONY STARK. PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T BLAST A FUCKING CHILD WITH YOUR IRON MAN GLOVE!" She screamed at him, feeling tears of frustration well up in her eyes. Of all people- why did it have to be _her_ that fell in love with Tony Stark?

"I'm going to fucking murder him." They heard quietly from the corner of the room.

It was then that they noticed the other avengers in the room- especially one furious archer. He had murder in his eyes.

"I'M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!" He screamed, before lunging himself at Tony.

It all happened in a split second- Tony's black eye, Clint's fall through the window, Pepper's scream of fright, Peter's jump through the window, Peter coming back up with Clint in his arms.

Half an hour later, they were all sitting in the waiting room, silent. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Tony was nursing his black eye with some ice, wincing every once and again, when he pressed too hard on a spot that hurt.

Peter occasionally shifted in his seat, keeping an eye on Clint, who looked positively smoldering.

After a period of time that honestly felt like a _fucking_ _decade_ , Bruce came out of the operating room, relief evident on his face.

"She's fine," he said softly, smiling at everyone's sighs of relief, and Tony's tears of joy. "Now, can someone explain who the hell I just operated on?"

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 **And, that was chapter 2! Hope I stayed true to the characters!**

 **What did you think of everyone's reactions? You'll have the detailed reaction of every single Avenger, and an awake -and ready to maim- little girl next chapter!**

 **Ps. A chapter of (Not Used To) Having a Family coming tomorrow! Stay tuned!**

 **Please leave a review to tell me what you think- they make me really happy :3**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying this story so far!**

 **In this chapter: Natasha wakes up, and the Avengers try to tell Nick Fury what happened.**

 **Without further ado...**

* * *

"So you're telling me that that was Romanoff I just operated on?" Banner asked incredulously.

Pepper had told him the story in a sane, reasonable way, while Stark dry-heaved in the corner.

He was so happy that he didn't kill Natasha that he almost puked.

Bruce shook his head like he was asking himself why the hell he was part of this insane group of people and sighed.

"Stark, tell me you know how to turn her back. We don't know anything about taking care of a child," the ever so reasonable Banner said, eying Tony in disdain.

Stark huffed. "It can't be that hard."

From the glares he received, he knew that it was. "Plus, I have no idea how to turn her back."

Silence.

More silence.

Then, "I'm going to kill him," Hawkeye whispered, while Thor held him back.

It was a promising start to their co-parenting journey.

Pepper was sitting in a chair next to Natasha's bed, while the young girl slept. Banner told them that she needed at least 24 hours for her body to recover. It wasn't an easy surgery, to say the least. He had to stop so much internal bleeding, that she needed 3 bags of transfused blood to get through it.

She looked as pale as usual, not the deathly color Stark saw during his ride down the elevator. Her chest shook with every breath she took, and her cute little face was scrunched up in a pained expression.

Pepper brushed her hair out of her forehead in a gentle way and smiled sadly. "Bruce? Is there any way we can give her more morphine?" She asked the doctor, who was writing on his notepad, standing at the foot of the bed.

"I'm afraid not. She's allergic. Well, Adult Natasha was, so I presume baby Natasha is, too."

Pepper winced inwardly. She's allergic to morphine. How did she manage to recover after every mission?

Pepper remembered once the boys coming back to the tower in a panic because Natasha was shot twice in the chest trying to protect Clint.

She was fine, of course, but it took her a month to be able to walk normally again. Pepper couldn't imagine how she did it without the help of painkillers.

She sighed, then felt Natasha move.

"Bruce?" Her voice rose as she saw her hand twitch. "I think she's waking up!"

"That's impossible," Bruce whispered, browsing through the papers in his hands. "Her healing is almost as fast as Adult Natasha's. Incredible."

"Should we restrain her?" Steve asked from the doorway in a small voice. This Natasha didn't know them. She was still a trainee at Assassin School or whatever. What if she tried to kill them again?

"Are you kidding me? NO! She's not some prisoner, Jesus, Steve," Pepper whispered harshly. She wanted to continue making him feel bad about it when Natasha's eyes fluttered open.

She blinked warily and looked around her. Her eyes landed on Pepper, who smiled at her reassuringly.

"Jarvis, activate the earbuds," Bruce said to the A.I.

While Natasha was unconscious, Tony had created translating earbuds that would allow them to talk with Natasha and understand her in real time, seeing as no one spoke Russian- except Barton, of course.

They each had one, as did the child.

"Hey there," Pepper whispered, stroking her hair gently.

Natasha looked at her in confusion. "What are you doing?" She asked in a small, hoarse voice.

Pepper looked at Bruce, who shrugged his shoulders in an 'I don't know' manner.

"Call Clint," she said to Steve, who practically bolted from the room.

She turned back to the small child, who was watching her with suspicion.

"Natasha, you're safe. This is not a test, you're not training anymore. You're free," she whispered gently, smiling as maternally as she could.

The child blinked, and her eyes hardened. She was still absolutely expressionless. She was starting to really freak Pepper out.

"My name is Natalia." She tried to get up, an expression of pure rage on her face then fell back in a scream of pain.

"Did you tear your stitches?" Pepper asked in a hurry, her hand shooting to the child's chest, but she stopped herself at the last second. "Can I check, Natalia?" She tried using the name the child gave her, to no avail.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, and Pepper almost thought she was speaking with Romanoff herself.

Pepper raised her hands in the air in surrender and backed away from the bed.

That was when Clint decided to make his entrance. He approached Natasha with his easy, Clint smile, and sat on Pepper's chair.

"Hey Nat," he took out her earbud, speaking to her in her mother tongue.

She seemed genuinely relieved to see someone speaking Russian. "Why are they not speaking Russian? Where am I?" She asked, letting the emotions creep onto her face. She looked so confused and panicked, Pepper's heart almost broke for her.

"You're in America, Natalia." He held her hand and continued smiling at her, trying his best not to show an ounce of sympathy or pity. He knew that she hated that.

"No," she whispered, terror overtaking her. "They're gonna kill me!" She cried and clutched Clint's arm in despair. "Take me back! They're gonna kill me if I don't come back! Please, please!"

Clint's smile broke, replaced by a sad look. He sat next to her on the bed and took her hand. She was crying, her chest heaving with the sobs. He knew that straining her lungs that much after having them almost burned to a crisp was not a good idea.

"Talia… You're free. You escaped from the Red Room."

At the name, her head snapped up to look at his face.

"… What?" She calmed down a little, wiping her eyes with her bandaged arm.

His teeth gritted. He was so gonna kill Stark.

"You did. You came to America to escape, and we took you in." Clint lied the best he could. He didn't know what she remembered exactly, but he hoped that she would believe him.

"I… I don't remember…" She whispered and looked at Clint with wide green eyes.

Meanwhile, Pepper was still watching the scene, along with Bruce and Steve. They collectively and silently decided to leave the master assassins alone. It was high time they ask Nick Fury who the fuck Natasha Romanoff was exactly.

They got out of the room to come face to face with the rest of the Avengers, who were sitting in the waiting room, worry etched on all their faces.

Pepper felt her heart constrict when she saw young Peter press his palms against his eyes in an effort to stop himself from crying. He just lost the closest person to a mother he ever had.

As much as Natasha would have loathed to admit it, she loved Peter with all her heart. She taught him how to defend himself efficiently, how to cook on the run when you don't have much to work with, how to stay strong despite heartbreak after his first girlfriend left him for the school jock. They even spoke Russian together, though very slowly, and using basic words, for Peter was still learning.

All those little things brought them closer together. To the point where one time, Peter called her мама спайдера in front of everyone, while they were having dinner one night. Romanoff had just smiled softly at him, surprising everyone in the room. They didn't know she could smile.

They had asked Jarvis what it meant afterward when both spiders were well out of earshot. The A.I told them that it simply meant 'spider mom', and that melted everyone's hearts. They never teased Peter about it.

She couldn't imagine what he must be going through right now.

Bruce cleared his throat before she could let herself be carried away by her thoughts. All the heads in the room turned towards them, curious.

"How is she?" Tony asked in a strangled voice, his eyes red-rimmed. Pepper sighed and took him in her arms, caressing his hair softly.

Tony had apologized profusely to Peter and Clint, and everyone else, though the formers were not keen on accepting his apology. Pepper knew this whole deal was taking its toll on him, that he didn't mean to do what he did, that he respected Natasha and wanted her alive as much as everyone else. She had saved their asses during missions countless times, usually by pushing them out of the way, and offering herself up instead, succeeding in missions deemed unsalvageable.

Her skills were beyond perfect, they all knew that, but they also missed her as a person, not just as a leader. Like that one time, she went out at three in the morning to buy Pop Tarts for Thor when he was sick with some Asgardian illness and desperately needed some. Or when she took Steve out for a few hours to introduce him to the new New York City, because she knew he was beyond lost. Or when she soothed Bruce after a particularly violent Hulk-out, where he almost killed her and Tony.

Most importantly, when she stayed up with Tony after a nightmare, even though he - and Pepper, when Tony told her- knew she would rather be alone.

She wasn't an all-out comforting and kind person, but those tiny gestures made her team realize quickly that she cared for them more than she would ever admit. That she had a heart, even though she's trying so hard to hide it. Pepper didn't know if that was due to her training, or the countless years of pain she endured -or was rumored to have endured, at least- before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Maybe it was both.

"We have to tell Fury," Bruce calmly announced, making everyone's jaws drop.

"Are you insane, Son Of Banner?" Thor got out of his seat and rose to his full height, towering over everyone in the room. "He will surely have our heads."

"I agree with the big guy. You're batshit crazy, Banner," Stark deadpanned, passing a hand through his hair, a tell-tale sign of his stress.

Pepper glared at him from her position in his arms.

"Would you prefer having to deal with her without knowing anything about what she had to go through?" She hissed, glaring at him with all her might.

He gulped, a guilty look overtaking his features in a wince. "You're right," he sighed dejectedly and got up. "Let's go call the pirate."

They all made their way to the Avengers Conference Room, that Tony set up not long ago. They all agreed on one thing when they first moved into the tower together, three months ago: they hated being called to S.H.I.E.L.D all the time. It was an hour's drive away, and they didn't feel frequent road trips would do much to cement their relationship. It would cause more fights if anything.

So they had Stark prepare this room, a spacious, but cozy conference room, with plush sofas of all colors, pushed against the walls, a mini fridge filled to the brim with all kinds of snacks, a coffee machine, a huge flat screen tv, and a glass table surrounded by chairs.

Each Avenger had their own chair. Thor had one that resembled a throne, Tony's was a blue armchair, Peter's could recline, and so on. They corresponded to their personalities perfectly. Even Pepper had one.

At some point of their stay at Stark Tower, the Heroes agreed that Pepper Potts was to be their handler until she got tired of their shit and left them to deal with it by themselves. It was a unanimous decision that they all seemed to take at about the same time, though no one spoke about it out loud.

They all settled around the glass table, Tony with a coffee in his hand, and took their respective Stark Tablets from the stack they were piled in.

No one mentioned how empty Natasha's chair was, at the head of the table, and how hollow it made the room seem.

"Are we ready?" Pepper asked, though she obviously knew the answer.

Even though no one was, they nodded, and she pushed some buttons on her tablet. Soon enough, a ringing sound reverberated through the room.

The Avengers joined the conference call with a few presses on their Tablets, and soon, Nick Fury's face appeared on the screen of the tv. He looked beyond annoyed to seem them.

"What now, Romanoff-" He stopped himself when his eyes fell on her empty chair.

The group felt the tension in the room suddenly skyrocket. Natasha had always been Nick Fury's favorite. No wonder he gave her the lead on all the missions, and made her an Alpha member of S.H.I.E.L.D, along with him and the freaking Secretary of Defense. He even gave her the Avengers. If that wasn't a dad spoiling his favorite murder child, Pepper didn't know what was.

He would kill them if something happened to her. And something did.

They all looked at each other with uncertainty, before Steve, Natasha's right hand, spoke up.

"Sir, Agent Romanoff isn't… Available at the moment," he admitted quietly, but Fury heard him perfectly.

"And why is that, Captain?" The Director seemed seconds away from ordering the Stark Tower to be bombed.

"I kinda transformed her into a kid," Stark answered with his usual nonexistent tact.

Silence.

More silence.

"I'm going to murder you, Stark."

That was, like, the fifth time someone said that to him today. He was starting to get used to it.

* * *

 **That was it! I hope I'm living up to your expectations! :3**

 **Leave a review, please, I love hearing your feedback ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone! I'm sorry this took a while, but writers' block was basically eating me alive. But I managed to pull through! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

 **In which: the Avengers try to make sense of what happened, and Nick Fury invites himself over. Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint have a little talk, and he tries to gain her trust.**

* * *

"I'm going to murder you, Stark."

Everyone in the room shrunk under the director's -excuse the pun- fury-filled gaze, and tried to disappear somehow.

Pepper, bless her heart, spoke up in a voice filled with fake conviction. If she had to die facing Nick Fury, she wanted to do it head held high. Even if she felt like crying under the pressure.

Explaining to a normal man that your boyfriend caused his daughter's 'disappearance', for a lack of a better description, would be disastrous. Now imagine having to explain that, in detail, to a man as powerful as the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Pepper felt like she was screwed over in her silent agreement with the Heroes. She never signed up to deliver bad news to Nick Fury, of all people.

"Sir, it's not Tony's fault-"

"Then, pray tell, Miss Potts, whose fault is it?" His one eye hardened, and he looked like he was trying really hard to contain himself. A first for a man as controlled as him.

"Right- uh, we don't exactly know how it happened in the first place." She winced as she heard the words come out of her mouth in the wrongest, most tactless way possible.

"Miss Potts..."

Oops, that was a warning, right there. She better regain full ability of her speech, before she ends up assassinated in a dubious way, her corpse dumped in some remote location, only to be found a month later by an unsuspecting jogger. Oddly specific, but it's not like the Avengers don't know S.H.I.E.L.D's M.O.

She explained the best she could how Stark came up with the idea of a memory organizer and deleter, how he spent weeks checking and rechecking his calculations, how there was no way it could possibly fail unless an outside force intervened at the last minute. Hard thing to do too, when the man clung to the device like his lifeline. He never let it out of his sight.

They were truly clueless as to how and why Natasha was a child, all of a sudden. Maybe it was an excess of the rays Stark had planned to use for the deleting process? Maybe it was an enemy spell destined to weaken the team, and the rest of the Heroes are next? They really didn't know and weren't all that keen on doing so.

"You know what," he muttered more to himself than to them, but they still heard him clearly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tense with the confined anger, and sighed a dejected, "I should come over. Natasha isn't- um, easy to manage."

Well, they all agreed on that.

An hour later, Nick Fury was sitting with them in their conference room, in Natasha's chair.

They weirdly felt uncomfortable with him sitting on the head of the table where their leader would usually be, her feet propped up, a careless air to her. They really did miss her, and they definitely did not like that.

The director himself didn't look like he was enjoying the moment, but he cleared his throat nonetheless.

"Listen to me carefully," he said, leaning in, crossing his arms in front of him on the table. "Do not, under any circumstance, ask her if she wants some ice cream. Those were her "words" when she was a child. Like Barnes'," he added, nodding at Steve, who nodded back with determination. He's managed a brainwashed Russian Assassin out to kill him before. He can manage a small child who just started training.

"They will trigger a response in her that you will not like. _Don't_ ," he interjected before Stark could butt in, "ask me why those words exactly, we never figured it out. They eventually were changed into individual words, like Barnes', but Agent Romanoff elected to keep those a secret. We respected that. Also, keep in mind that she looks like she's five, but she's been training with the Red Room for at least a decade."

Silence.

More silence.

And oddly, no threats of imminent death. It was more of a confused silence this time.

"Excuse me, what?" Pepper regained her voice first, and she was really starting to seriously consider letting the Heroes handle their own shit for once. But Natasha was her friend -well, Natasha Romanoff didn't have friends, but she had people she could tolerate, barely. And Pepper was certain she was one of those people. Natasha actually smiled at her once. Or did she? Did Pepper imagine that?

She chose not to dwell on that right then.

"Agent Romanoff is roughly the age of Captain Rogers." He nodded to the captain, who looked as lost as everyone else. "Because of the super serum she was injected with as a child, her aging slowed down monumentally. She also developed superhuman strength-"

"Plus some freaky reflexes, unparalleled wittiness, intelligence and strategic skills?" Tony interrupted hastily again, in such a typical Tony Stark manner, that the Heroes didn't even bother to glare at him. They were so used to his antics by now, it was becoming boring.

"No, those are completely her. The serum only granted her superhuman strength and a healing factor five times faster than of a normal human being's."

They all nodded, kind of still in shock after the whirlwind of information they just received.

"So… uh- she wasn't in the mafia, either, I presume," Tony sheepishly muttered, scratching the back of his head.

"No, she was part of the Red Room's Black Widow program. Basically, they kidnap a bunch of kids and brainwash them into perfect soldiers. They begin with 28 girls, and in the end, only one remains."

"What happens to the other girls?" Banner anxiously answered, wringing his hands together. The whole situation was stressing him out and the Hulk was itching to make an appearance, but Bruce knew that he needed to keep it together. God knows what'll happen if Baby Natasha -Natalia, he corrected himself- sees the monster. She'll probably be traumatized.

"They are-" Fury almost looked reluctant to say it. He finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "-killed. They pit the girls against each other as a graduating ceremony and the one who manages to stay alive is their new assassin."

Everyone looked like they've seen a ghost as they absorbed the information. So… Natasha had to kill a bunch of kids to become the Black Widow.

Tony kind of understood her urge to forget her past, right then. He was even more hell-bent on perfecting his Memori machine- yes he gave it a name. A pretty cute one, may he add.

Peter was staring at the ground, a haunted look on his face. The older Heroes wished they didn't let him attend this meeting. They knew he would've managed to sneak in any way, but hearing these things about a woman he considered an idol of his must have knocked her a peg or two down his scale of 'Super-Awesome-Badass-Tough-As-Nails-People-Whom-I-Admire-And-Respect-And-Want-To-Be-Like-When-I'm-Older'.

They didn't want him to think any less of her because of what she's done, and now that they think about it, they realized that Natasha hid her past from them fearing the same thing. She didn't want them to think she was a monster. They already didn't trust her much as it is, she really didn't want their respect gone too.

Needless to say, they felt super bad.

"Should we tell her that she was de-aged or should we keep it a secret?" Pepper asked what everyone was secretly thinking. That was, in fact, an important issue.

"If we tell her that she knew us, and how she actually managed to escape Russia, she'll be more likely to trust us," Banner said matter-of-factly, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. A couple of heroes nodded along with him, but Thor sighed audibly.

"But what if that information scares Lady Natasha? Odin knows I would be if I were told that I was an adult not even a day ago," he replied, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?" Fury looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. That came as quite a shock to the team, who were so used to seeing the man of steel the Director usually was. This was really taking its toll on him. "Keep it a secret. We will use it as a last resort if she stays hostile."

They all nodded their agreements, and he stood up, adjusting his black coat. "Now, shall we pay our pint-sized assassin a visit?"

Back in Natalia's room, Clint was trying to coax Natalia out of her shell, just like he did when he first got her to join S.H.I.E.L.D. He cringed internally when he remembered that it took him _months_ to get her to call him Clint, not Barton, and a whole year to get her to trust him. His partner wasn't the most open person, he got that, but if Natalia was that way too, it was going to become a problem.

"What's the last thing your remember?" He asked curiously, dragging his chair closer to her bed.

She tried to sit up straighter, but groaned, as she fell back on her pillow.

"What… happened to me?" She managed, panting slightly. Beads of sweat were pearling on her forehead, and her teeth were clenched in pain.

Clint felt his stomach lurch painfully. He already gave her, like, a bottle of standard painkillers. What she needed was clearly something stronger but he knew that it would be a bad idea for her to go into anaphylactic shock after a major surgery.

"You had an accident in Tony's lab." He rubbed her hand slowly, and she nodded in understanding.

"Was it the man with the weird mustache?"

Clint laughed out loud at that. So, her sense of humor's always been like that.

He kind of felt better that he could see glimpses of his best friend in that little girl. Natalia was probably decades away from becoming the Black Widow, so all the brainwashing and the torture adult Natasha had to endure was still unknown to Natalia. Of course, she's already lived through plenty, Clint guessed, and that felt like a stab to the gut.

"Yeah, yeah it was. He said you suddenly attacked him. Tony's a friend, Nat."

She actually looked embarrassed, and a little bit ashamed. Clint absolutely did not see that coming. He was gaining her trust faster than he expected.

"I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I know." He grinned his Clintesque smile at her, and she couldn't help but return it, though it was a bit dim. "Don't worry about it. Just try not to kill anyone, okay? We're all your friends here. We're just trying to protect you."

"How did I get out?" She asked as a dark shadow overtook her face. It eerily reminded him of her older self after a nightmare.

"I kind of kidnapped you." He smiled as he recalled the tale. He was tinkering a bit with it, of course, but she didn't need to know that. "I couldn't bear the thought of a small girl as adorable as you being transformed into a killing machine, so I asked my bosses from S.H.I.E.L.D if I could save you, and they let me. Now you live with us- the Avengers."

She nodded her understanding again, and relaxed a bit in her bed, even allowing herself a small smile. She was obviously pleased that she was here and not… _there_ anymore. He was pretty sure she was still a bit skeptical, but she refrained herself from further questioning him, probably in fear that she'll get a beating, or whatever the Red Room deemed a fit punishment.

"It hurts…" She muttered after a while of silence, and Clint's grip on her hand tightened, as did his heart.

He felt his eyes burn with unshed tears. That was his best friend. His favorite person in the whole world. She was given a second chance at a childhood and he would be damned if he didn't make it worth her while. If she wasn't the happiest kid on earth by the end of the week, he would feel like a failure of a partner.

With a new resolve, Clint nudged Natasha playfully, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Yep, she definitely didn't change all that much.

"What do you say we get some food in you?" He poked her stomach carefully, minding her stitches.

She giggled a bit and nodded shyly.

"Can I-" she stopped herself, seeming to change her mind, and rephrased. "Not soup. Please?" She asked in the smallest voice she could muster, and Clint frowned.

"Natalia, those days are over, I promise. You can get whatever you want."

She looked even more lost if that was possible. "I- I don't know what I… want?"

Clint cringed a bit, then kneeled beside the bed, taking her hand in his. "Hey, I know this must be new to you. The country, the food, the people. We'll get through this together okay? You can count on me. Forever and always." He repeated the phrase he often told her, and he felt a sadness wash over him when she just nodded, instead of saying it back as usual.

He wanted his Nat back, yet he wanted to care for this Nat the best he could. It was a weird feeling, but he knew he could live with it. Nat was still Nat, and she needed him now, more than ever. And he'll be damned if he didn't stand beside his best friend in her time of need.

Forever and always weren't just empty words. They were a promise.

* * *

 **This was it!**

 **Next up: Natalia starts to get more comfortable with the heroes, and mischief ensues! But of course, that doesn't mean that her PTSD disappeared. Read as the heroes try to make her feel at home, while also managing her nightmares.**

 **I hope you liked this! Please review! It makes me super happy :3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait, I had some stuff to take care of.**

 **I hope you like this new chapter!**

 **In which: Natalia gets out of her hospital room, and meets the team and Fury. Meanwhile, Peter isn't feeling so good. (Get it? Get it? Sorry but I had to.)**

 **Without further ado...**

* * *

Clint wheeled Natasha around the Stark Tower's medical wing, letting her take in the sights. She seemed particularly taken by the scientists rushing around the labs, working on blood samples, and whatever else Stark had tasked them to do.

Clint raised an eyebrow at the unusual behavior. Natasha _hated_ labs. She hated scientist, she hated doctors, she hated everything that had to do with them.

Tiny Natasha seemed quite taken with the world of science and medicine.

"You like that?" Clint asked her with a huge smile on his face. He knew that when his Natasha got a little older, she was stripped of all her hobbies, likes and dislikes, and desires. A perfect weapon did not preferences, and therefor did not have a personality. It turned them into unhuman killing machines, and thus, perfect assassins. When his friend explained that to him one day, with cold detachment, when he asked her what her favorite food was, he was more than taken aback.

He was very glad that he could help Natalia develop her own personality. He wanted her to be as human as possible. He wanted her to live. He wanted her happy.

He also figured that if Natalia seemed attracted by some things, then she hasn't been experimented with, or tortured yet. He found himself immensely comforted by that thought.

She looked a bit embarrassed. "Kind of."

She didn't offer any other explanation, and he didn't ask. He felt that the trust she put in him was fragile, at best. He had to work his ass off to earn it, and strengthen it. But he wasn't worried. He has wormed his way into her heart once, he can do it again, no problem. He was Clint Barton, after all, known charmer, with his characteristic smile, and his boyish, endearing demeanor. That's what got her the first time -that, and she probably considered him a dumb kitten following her around, completely enamored with her. She wasn't wrong- and he was sure it would work a second.

He rolled her to the elevator, and pressed the call button.

He figured he could whip up a quick sandwich for her, since the doctor deemed it safe to let her ingest solid foods. She had bewildered them with the amount progress she had made within a couple of hours. Her wounds were already closing, and the burn on her arm that she got when she tried to shield her chest was almost invisible.

They waited for the elevator together, while Clint whistled a random song.

Natalia looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "How do you do that?!" She asked, excited, almost looking like a normal kid- if not for the bandages on her torso, and her arm. He also noticed that she had a missing tooth. He almost melted into a puddle. She was just so freaking _adorable_.

He winked at her, and wanted to answer, but the elevator dinged, and opened, revealing the Avengers, Pepper, and Nick Fury inside.

Clint suddenly didn't feel very confident in his decision to get her out of bed.

The heroes, meanwhile -minus the people who've already seen her- were shocked beyond words.

It was Fury who snapped out of it first, and crouched down on the floor to be at eye-level with Natalia. He had such an open expression on his face that Clint did a double take. And were those… tears in his eyes?

He had always known that his best friend and the director had an… uncanny relationship. He just didn't know to what extent.

He didn't know that Natasha called Fury 'Pops' when no one was around. He didn't know that Fury called her his little sunshine, as much as that annoyed her. He didn't know how much she secretly loved it. He didn't know about the late nights playing scrabble, or discussing the team, or working together in a comfortable silence. He didn't know about the cooking lessons they took together, following some tutorials on YouTube, or how Natasha was the only person Fury refused to wear his eyepatch around.

And he would never know. Fury had made sure of that. But seeing her like that… he didn't know if he could keep up the facade of the cold, serious director any longer. His little sunshine. In pain. Burned. Her chest carved with blasts of pure energy. She could've died. She could've _died_.

His teeth gritted, and he took a deep breath. He would kill Stark later. He thought that he had his anger under control, but _seeing_ her like that-

He shook his head, and smiled a little when he saw her fiddle with a device in her lap, bringing it up to her ear, and fixing it there.

"Hello," she said, although with a little apprehension. She seemed to gain a bit of confidence, when Clint put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

Nick smiled a watery smile, and presented his hand to her. "Hello there, little Natalia. I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Nick. I'm your… Friend. Your friend." The words seemed to actually hurt the older man, and the heroes had to bite back cringes and winces of sympathy.

Natalia simply smiled back at him shyly, and shook his hand.

She then turned her attention to Tony, who was standing in the back, trying to look as invisible as possible.

"I- uh…" She wrung her hands in her lap, and the Avengers simply found her _to die for_. The girl, be it in her adult or her younger form, seemed to have the gift of seduction.

The Avengers, especially Pepper, Fury, and Peter, weren't immune to her charms.

Her chubby, rosy cheeks contrasted against her pale skin. Her fiery red hair fell like a curtain around her face, in wavy, long strands that nearly touched the base of her spine. She actually had _freckles,_ for god's sake. She was the epitome of cuteness.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, mister…" She whispered, obviously ashamed of what she did. "I couldn't- remember? And I felt… s-scared. I-"

"Hey, it's okay, Firecracker," Tony said, the nickname rolling off his tongue in a natural way. "I did something pretty bad too. I'm sorry I… blasted you. You're just pretty spooky when you want to."

He felt the compelling need to comfort her, though he didn't know exactly why. She was just so- ugh. It was just guilt, he reassured himself. He just felt guilty for nearly killing her. He wasn't falling in love with the little girl. He definitely wasn't. Nope, nuh-uh.

Then, she smiled a little brighter. _Crap, I'm totally a goner._

"It's okay. It wasn't very painful." She shrugged in a way that made the rest of them shudder. If _that_ wasn't very painful-

"What do you mean, Talia?" Clint kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his. She seemed to like it when he rubbed them with his thumbs slowly, so he did just that, and she relaxed a fraction.

"Water… is worse." She fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor. They didn't know what she meant by that, but they felt like they would find out soon.

There was an awkward pause, everyone either looking at Natasha, or at Fury, who was wiping his eye as quickly as he could.

Then, a loud grumble echoed in the hallway. Their heads all turned towards Natalia, who merely blushed, and hung her head.

Clint laughed. "I was on my way to make her a sandwich. Shall we?" He nodded to the vast elevator, more than capable of holding all of them, and then some.

A few minutes later, they were all seated in the lounge on the main floor, some sprawled on beanbags, others hogging couches, or even laid down on the carpet.

Natalia was still in her wheelchair, stationed just next to Peter.

Noises of cutlery and cupboards snapping open and shot were heard from the kitchen, signs that Clint and Pepper were hard at work preparing dinner.

Peter kept glancing at Natalia out the corner of his eye, while she preoccupied herself with a Rubik's cube she found on the coffee table, in the middle of the room.

It was Bruce's, but the Doctor didn't have the heart to deny her when he saw her look at it curiously. He really wanted to finish it on his own. He had been craving a challenge for a while, and this cube -a gift from Tony- came as exactly that.

The little girl didn't seem to find it all that challenging, and she grasped the concept quite quickly. She was well on her way to solving it.

Thor and Tony were even placing bets. The doctor was slightly inclined to join them.

Peter gave up on trying to look subtle, and started to fully stare at Natalia. She was worlds away from becoming Natasha, his Natasha, his spider mom. This kid didn't even know him.

He felt his heart constrict at the thought. Who would make him breakfast every morning, and drive him to school in her super cool car now?

They had developed a kind of routine, Natasha and him. Her schedule at S.H.I.E.L.D coincided with his, so they agreed that she would drop him off at school every morning, instead of bothering Happy every time, or taking the bus. That, and Peter hated the yellow, hellish vehicle with all of his being.

The fact that Natasha drove a Corvette was a plus, too.

He thought of all the sparring sessions they weren't going to have, and the dance lessons that she had promised him. His heart clenched further.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and bolted to the elevator, quickly going up to his room.

Natalia's head snapped up in curiosity. "Why did he go?" She asked aloud, but only got shrugs from the team and an 'I don't know, kid' from Tony.

She continued working on her cube.

Tony leaned towards Bruce, worry etched on his face. "Do you think I should go after him?"

Bruce sighed. He knew that Natasha's… predicament wasn't going to be easy on Peter. "I think he just needs some space. Don't worry about him, he'll come around."

He understood Tony's worry, especially after the kid's aunt had to travel to Canada for a job, leaving him with the heroes. He wasn't very shaken because of her sudden loss, as they communicated every day via texting and frequent facetiming, but the loss of another mother figure apparently did not sit well with the teenager.

Tony just nodded, and was about to say something else, but was interrupted by Pepper calling them for dinner.

They all settled around the table, Natalia between Fury and Clint. The silverware and the porcelain plates started clinking around as they were passed from a person to another.

Pepper smiled gently at Natalia, who looked up at her through her eyelashes shyly.

"What would you like, Natalia?" The strawberry blonde asked gently, convinced that Natalia wasn't going to lash out at her like she did before.

She looked confused. Pepper suddenly felt a little embarrassed, but she didn't understand exactly why. She just felt like she shouldn't have asked.

Clint winced visibly, confirming Pepper's fears. She _definitely_ shouldn't have asked.

"You really should try some salad, it's really good," Pepper encouraged with an easy smile, masking the discomfort she felt.

Clint had to give it to her, she was very clever. Saying that was neither an order, nor an open question. It was a suggestion, only meant to encourage the indecisive child. She figured that Natalia never had the opportunity to choose something for herself before- she was used to being ordered around like a robot.

Letting her choose something out right was maybe a bit much for her, so suggesting something and letting her agree seemed like the smartest choice. She was right.

Natalia nodded slowly, eying the salad with masked -but there- curiosity.

She ate slowly, deliberately tasting and registering the taste in her palate.

' _At least she isn't eating quickly and trying to hoard her food. She feels safe with us,'_ Clint thought with some relief.

He smiled at the child beside him, who smiled back with a bit of green stuck between her teeth. He almost felt the need to take a picture of her. Natasha would probably kill him, but then she would smile a bit, and that was all he needed to take out his phone to snap a quick picture without her noticing. The rest of the evening was spent suggesting some foods they knew the older her liked.

She ate them all with an enthusiasm they've never seen before from her. It made the evening lighter, and before they knew it, they were all seated in front of Stark's plasma tv, watching a rerun of Friends. Natalia was still playing with Rubik's cube silently, sitting unbelievably straight and still in her wheelchair. She was so stiff that Pepper was looking at her with concern. She was probably in pain, the poor thing.

She was very silent for a child her age, but it was understandable. She was still very skeptical of the story she was told. She couldn't believe that it was that easy to get out of the Red Room. And she was right, but they weren't about to tell her that. She hasn't voiced her concerns out loud but they knew they were there.

She kept silent mainly because she feared that she would be brought back to Russia. She was warm, she was fed, and she was relatively safe -at least till now. They were very nice to her, spoke to her in a gentleness unheard by her before. She vaguely remembered her parents treating her that way, but she couldn't remember their names- not even their faces were still engraved in her memory. She definitely did not want to go back to the torturous training, the soups, the cold cell she slept in-

She shook her head, and decided to focus on the task in front of her. Her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, she managed to finish the cube in the next ten minutes.

Stark passed Thor 10 bucks silently, before he grinned at Natalia.

"Hey, if you like puzzles and stuff like that, you can always ask Jarvis for some."

Natalia's head snapped up towards him, visibly intrigued.

"I'll show ya," Stark exclaimed, with his usual enthusiasm, before whistling sharply. "Jarvis, my boy, my man, what cool puzzles do you have for our little tsarina?"

Natalia actually blushed a little at the nickname. She looked up at the ceiling, obviously still aware that Jarvis is the A.I she conversed with beforehand.

"Sir, may I suggest Sudoku?" The British voice smoothly suggested, and a hologram of a Sudoku grid appeared in front of Natalia.

Her eyes lit up, and, after Jarvis explained how to play, she was hard at work to complete her first grid.

The heroes were observing her, endeared. She looked at ease, enjoying the puzzle in front of her. They had known that Natasha liked intellectual activities, like reading, crosswords, and whatnot, but they honestly did not expect that from Natalia.

The little girl played on, completing 3 grids before she yawned audibly, making Clint smile.

"You tired, Talia?" He approached her, crouching in front of her wheelchair.

She nodded, and smiled at him softly. "I like it here."

She was very drowsy, and Clint was sure she wouldn't have said it if she was 100% awake, but he was pleased nonetheless.

"Well, we like having you here, Lady Natalia," Thor boomed, and Natalia smiled when she heard him talk.

"You speak Russian?" She asked excitedly, looking slightly more awake.

"No, my lady, that is what we call Allspeak. You hear me speaking in Russian, but the others hear me expressing myself in English," he explained loudly, and Natalia nodded thoughtfully.

"But what do _you_ hear?" She looked at him, her hand supporting her chin. She almost looked like a scholar, which made Clint chuckle. She was a curious little thing, and he was glad the Red Room had not snuffed that out of her yet.

"Well-"

"How about you continue this conversation tomorrow? You're falling asleep, Nat," Clint gently encouraged, already wheeling her away.

She pouted a little, then an expression of pure terror crossed her face. She immediately schooled her features in an emotionless mask, and Clint sighed inaudibly.

He was about to tell her that it was okay to express emotions, that they were not going to do anything to her, but he refrained himself. God knows that enough change happened for her in one day.

Though, her going to bed was a moment he dreaded. Older Natasha's nightmares kept her up all the time- she was pretty much an insomniac. She didn't even try to sleep anymore, she simply stayed behind after everyone turned in for the night, and continued reading whatever book she started the night before. A book never took her longer than two days- three, maximum.

She knew how to conceal the bags under her eyes skillfully, so it wasn't apparent for the rest of the team how little she actually slept, but he knew her better than most.

Sighing again, he wheeled Natalia into Natasha's bedroom.

* * *

 **Here it is! This chapter is dedicated to my sister (yo bro. I finished it, finally. Be proud of me.) and Magda, my awesome friend who deserves the world! Thanks for the support, both of you :3**

 **Next up: Natalia, as expected, has a nightmare. She also finally meets Peter.**

 **Okay, so since we got to the point where the plot is pausing a bit, please suggest scenes and situations to put little Nat in! I would love to hear your thoughts! (Please do, I have no ideas for the next chapters)**

 **Reviews warm my heart :3**


	6. Chapter 6

**HEY GUYS! Sorry for the long wait ;) I hope you'll like this!**

 **In which: Natalia still has some of Natasha's memories, and Clint's an idiot.**

 **Without further ado...**

* * *

When they got to Natasha's floor, he absolutely expected Natalia to start getting curious. Because, entering the apartment, Natasha's "photowall" was proudly on display.

Natasha was a fan of photography. She always had her camera with her, ready to snap the perfect shot. Whether they're just chilling next to the fireplace drinking wine and playing never have I ever, or on a mission. Also, she had the habit of editing her photos herself, developing them herself, and sticking them on the wall facing the elevator in her living room.

He knew that it just indicated how much of a softie Nat really was, and how much she cared for the team, but she had just shrugged when he asked, and said that she liked to immortalize her memories because she doesn't know when she'll be wiped again. That had chilled him to the core at the time.

Now, baby Nat was staring at the wall in awe. Oh, shoot. How will he be able to explain Natasha to her?

"Wow," she breathed out, wonder evident in her eyes. She wheeled herself forward, Clint staying rooted in place.

He was fucking frozen in fear.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing at Natasha's smiling face.

She didn't have a lot of photos of herself, but there was that selfie she took with Clint after a successful mission in Bora Bora. They had taken two days off afterward, chilled on the beach, and eventually took that photo.

They were both in their swimming suits, Natasha in a stunning blue bikini and Clint in purple shorts. They were leaning against each other, Clint's arm wrapped protectively around Natasha's shoulders. Those were happier, simpler times before they met their batshit crazy teammates, and one of them decided to fucking shrink his partner into a 5-year-old.

"That's… uh. That's Natasha." He deadpanned, not knowing how to elaborate further.

"Oh. Who's Natasha?" She looked up at him with her big, green eyes, and he swallowed with difficulty.

He figured that if he told her that she was Natasha herself, Natalia would freak the _fuck_ out. She would think he's a liar, and hell, he would understand.

He would think the same.

He knew that the technology and the year would probably not surprise her. The Red Room was a secluded place to live. Natasha told him once how she didn't even know what year it was until she started going out on missions. Dates and time were relative in the Red Room, she had said.

If you could count time, you would start to realize it was a prison, not a school, she had said.

He didn't have any problem believing her.

"She's… My best friend." He had decided not to lie. What was the point? "She's away right now, on a mission, but she would've loved meeting you."

Natalia smiled. "She seems nice," she whispered quietly, a strange look on her face. "Do you speak Russian because of her? I can tell you're American."

Clint's jaw almost fell. She was so sharp for a child, it was almost shocking. But he understood that logic and spy shit like that was taught at a young age in that assassin school of hers.

"Yeah, she's Russian too. That's why you guys would've gotten along great."

Natalia only smiled.

He wheeled her to Nat's bedroom, and carefully lifted her and put her on the bed. She didn't wince, but he could feel her tense. She was clearly in pain. But he knew that it was drilled in her head that a response to pain meant severe punishment.

"Do you need more painkillers?" He asked carefully, adjusting the pillows around her. He already knew her answer, but what the heck, he could always try, right?

She shook her head fervently. He had tried, at least. Oh, well.

"Okay, then. Goodnight, Nat."

She seemed reluctant, especially when Clint made his way to the door.

She didn't hold him back though.

He finally smiled sadly at her and closed the door on his way out. He left her alone, plunged in thick darkness and thicker blankets.

She shifted uneasily, trying to get comfortable without the iron handcuffs digging into her hand, splitting the thin skin around her wrist.

She chose to look around her instead. The bedroom she was in was classy, a modern style to it. She decided that whoever they are, these people were rich. And they were also lying.

The bullshit they fed her was just that- bullshit. She didn't believe for a minute that she managed to 'get out' of the Red Room. This must be a test, of sorts. No one can get out of the Red Room. Countless had tried; she knew that. She had heard the guards mutter and gossip amongst themselves during their evening rounds when they thought she was sleeping.

She had mastered the art of deception at a surprisingly young age- she was fairly certain she was seven, though she looked younger. Maybe four or five, to an outsider, a target. Her stature always had people underestimating her. She didn't mind. She loved the shock, quickly followed by the terror when they realized their mistake. Those people who were playing with her head were soon to follow.

Yes, this must be a test. She should've eliminated the targets by now. They all seemed to be wrapped around her little finger already. She was fairly certain that a tiny smile would turn them into putty in her hands. Then, she would snap their necks.

She wasn't so sure she could take them all on, though. A few of them looked ripped- they obviously exercised a lot, and the hammer she saw laying on the coffee table made alarm bells sound in her brain. They were fighters, but so was she. If this was really a test, then she would be coming back victorious. Maybe it would spare her a beating for a night or two.

Either that or… something else happened. Something stranger. She didn't miss the flash of sadness in Clint's eyes when she mentioned his redheaded friend.

She also didn't miss the almost exact resemblance between herself and the older woman. That just cannot be a coincidence. It was too much. The long wavy red hair, the barely visible freckles, the lopsided smile, the invisible scar running from her left temple to her ear.

Natalia had the same scar.

She didn't know how or what the hell happened exactly, but she was positive that her and "Natasha" were the exact same person. Clint -if that was even his real name- didn't try to hide it all that much either. He literally told her that the older woman was Russian and that she was an 'agent'.

She also noticed the flat tv in the living room, cars she's never seen before when she looked out of the window, and of course, the AI that spoke with her through the walls of the house.

She was pretty sure she wasn't in the 30s anymore.

A trip to the future did seem a bit farfetched. A youth serum seemed way more appropriate. She has heard of technology like that. Apparently, it was used on the Winter Soldier, the man who was to become her mentor in a couple of years.

But then, a question presented itself. Why the hell was she a child again?

She couldn't bring herself to trust anyone in this household. She _shouldn't_ trust anyone in this household. She had to stay alert, at least until she figures all of this shit out, she told herself.

That was proving to be increasingly difficult though, with her eyelids drooping. Before she knew it, she was drifting into an uneasy sleep.

 _She found herself surrounded by snow, and her first instinct was to bring her arms around herself in an unconscious move to stay warm. Hypothermia was not pleasant._

 _What surprised her, though, was the fact that she was wearing warm clothes. Clothes made for being out in the snow. Skiing attire. The Red Room would only supply them with shorts and tank tops, and let them loose in the white expanse, pushing them to use their senses to find their way back. Most of them never did. Natalia was one of the few who succeeded._

 _So, needless to say, she was shocked. She also noticed that she was taller, somehow. What the actual…_

 _She looked around her, and by some miracle, she noticed a wooden cabin just behind her. Funny… She hadn't seen that before, yet the sense of familiarity was over whelming._

 _She carefully approached the cabin and tried to look inside through a window, but it was frosted over. The only thing she saw was Natasha._

 _She did a double take, stumbling back in surprise. That… was supposed to be her reflection. Why did she see Clint's 'best friend'?_

" _Hey, Nat!" She heard a voice call her name, (or Natasha's, probably) and she turned to see Clint waving at her, a few feet away. He had a snowboard in his arms, and another by his feet. "You comin' or what?"_

 _She felt herself nod, not completely in control anymore, and made her way to Clint, who gave her the snowboard, pulling his snow goggles over his face._

 _She did the same, a small smile gracing her lips, but Natalia's heart was hammering with panic. She's never snowboarded in her life before._

 _She felt like slipping down a snow-covered hill while being chased by wolves was not considered a sport._

 _She didn't exactly understand what was happening, but Natalia was pretty sure that her 'youth serum' theory was just proved to be correct- by her own mind, nonetheless._

 _It pained her to admit it, but she was elated. She has never been able to rely on her own memories before since they were tampered with on a daily basis. Her head was definitely not dependable._

 _So having a memory replay in a dream was… well, a dream come true, as ironic as that sounded._

 _The rest of the group, the people whom she met at the tower, materialized beside them suddenly -or they've been there from the beginning, and she didn't notice. It was very hard to pinpoint._

 _The mad scientist who blasted her in the chest, the doctor, the patriotic American, the teenager, and Barbie-man. They were all there._

 _They were all smiling at her, too, some with skis, other with snowboards, like Clint and herself._

 _So, it was true. They were friends before. What the hell happened then? Were they all Russian spies? Was she infiltrated?_

" _You ready to kick our asses, like always, Romanoff?"_

 _Romanoff… That was an Americanized version of her last name. That made her uneasy, and… Kind of relieved, at the same time. So, she tried to fit in with them by changing her name, but not completely. That meant she wasn't undercover._

 _Then, Stark spit out a joke in his low, rumbling voice, she felt herself laugh alongside the team, and thought she was definitely not infiltrated. She genuinely liked them, she liked being amongst them. She felt like she belonged, standing there in the snow, warm, comfortable and happy, a striking opposition to previous, similar situations involving snow she's been in._

 _She felt right._

Before she knew it, it was morning. And she was _hurting_. Clint's painkillers apparently had completely worn off. The pain of Stark's blast was fully manifesting, feeling like fire crawling in her veins and arteries and choking her heart from the inside.

She gasped soundlessly, her hand going up to grip her chest, and she could only think of one thing.

' _Clint.'_

Clint was still snoring when Jarvis' alarmed voice woke him up. Clint has known for a while now that Jarvis can, and does feel emotions, but hearing such worry seeping in the AI's voice set Clint's senses on fire.

"Mr. Barton," the AI half-yelled, and Clint was up in a second.

"Is she okay?" He asked, looking up at the ceiling for a half a second, before hopping out of bed and pulling on some pants.

"No-"

Clint was already in the elevator, frantically pushing the button to Nat's floor.

"She seems to be in pain, Sir," the AI continued seamlessly, and Clint silently thanked Stark for incorporating Jarvis in all of the Tower.

"Wake up Bruce for me, will ya? Tell him we need that anti-inflammatory cream Nat always uses."

"Yes, Sir," Jarvis replied, almost relieved that Clint had a plan.

His best friend had a lot of pain episodes like that, usually after being shot or injured, since she didn't take morphine.

She would wake him up with blood-curling screams, and he would immediately apply said cream to the wound. It was almost magical, its soothing proprieties taking effect in a few minutes.

Bruce had developed it for her, a few months back.

They were still a new team, but they were tight. They've never been on a mission together, but Clint was pretty sure that they would be able to hold their own just fine if shit did hit the fan.

The elevator doors opened, and soon enough, Clint was sprinting towards Nat's room. The silence in the dark apartment was oppressive, and he mentally kicked himself for leaving her alone during the night. How could he have forgotten? How could he leave her alone with a gaping _hole_ in her chest?

He burst into her bedroom, and found her in bed, writhing in pain, her hand gripping her blood-stained shirt.

Oh, the blood. Its scent made Clint gag. It was _everywhere_. He was surprised she was still awake, after losing that much. It looked like a pint or two to him.

He mentally added 'change the sheets' to his to-do list, and carefully approached Nat. He knew that help was not something Red Room recruits were allowed, and that was probably why Natalia wasn't screaming, like her older counterpart would do when the pain became too much.

The child was just gritting her teeth, her tears streaming down her face, mixing with the blood on her pillow.

When she saw him, she uttered a weak 'Clint,' and he could swear he heard Natasha.

His heart almost jumped out of his chest in horror, when her grip on her chest tightened, then slacked, and her eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

 **Excuse the typos I make. This is completely unbetaed. Is anyone interested in getting the chapters before anyone else? Hit me up in my PM's!**

 **Next up: Natalia properly recovers and receives a visit from our favorite spider kid.**

 **See ya next time! Reviews warm my heart and make me write a shit-ton faster :3**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! Sorry for the long wait, I had a couple of things to take care of. Here's an extra long chapter for you!**

 **In which: there's a lot of clintasha and Peter finally formally meets Natalia.**

 **Without further ado...**

* * *

Natalia woke up a couple of hours later with a fresh bandage wrapped around her chest, and some flowers in a vase next to her bed- _Natasha's_ bed. She was in her room.

She smiled softly when she noticed Clint's sleeping form, sprawled on the comfortable looking couch in the corner of the room. She was relieved to see that he wasn't sitting in an uncomfortable chair or anything. She was also shocked to realize that she cared. She liked Clint. A lot. He spoke Russian with her, and he was soft and gentle and really funny.

Her heart clenched at the thought of being ripped away from him. Surely, this will not last. The Room will find her again. They will find her, and they will kill everyone she's come to like, saving Clint for last. Then, they will force her to gut him herself.

She can already feel the blood gushing out of the archer's neck, tainting her already bloody hands. Drenched her already dripping ledger.

She rolled over, so she was lying on her back instead of on her side, and stared up at the decorated ceiling, willing the disturbing thoughts to disappear. She would not think about that right now. She could enjoy it while it lasts. Because nothing lasts for her. She doesn't deserve lasting.

She squinted at the paint strokes that littered her ceiling and wondered if it was Natasha who drew them, or if it was a just common decoration in this 'future' she found herself suddenly in. She didn't understand this era's art, sure, but she could appreciate it. The paint swirls _were_ very pretty.

She sighed when she remembered her Natasha theory. Should she ask? They would think she's insane if she did ask and it turns out to be just _that-_ a stupid theory. What if they sent her back? She didn't want them to know her. She didn't want them to know how deep the insanity ran in her exactly, how many people she's killed, tortured, made them _scream_ her name. And she's only seven.

Adult Natasha had much, much more to hide.

A different thought suddenly occurred. Worse than them discovering how truly disturbed she really was- What if they were all actually Red Room?

She winced at the thought. No, a Red Room agent would definitely not be watching over her with such… care, while she slept.

… Or maybe they would, as a cover.

She closed her eyes tiredly, and decided to just play along whatever happens, and always stay vigilant. She couldn't think of anything else to do. And she was just so tired and so _sore._ She missed Russia. She missed the girls in her program. They were like sisters to her. She missed training with them and dancing with them. And, as twisted as it sounded, not being tortured and brainwashed for the past couple of days left her with a hollow feeling of eeriness. Like something wasn't exactly right.

She wasn't used to all that affection that everyone was demonstrating, especially Clint and the nice redheaded lady called Pepper for some reason. Who would name their daughter after a spice?

' _Crazy Americans…'_

She heard Clint shift on the sofa and kept her eyes closed. She focused on his movement and heard him sit up, rub his hand tiredly over his face, and groan softly. She was decidedly getting better at this, she smirked internally. Her trainer would be proud of her.

Deception and seduction were things she was already very good at, for a 7-year-old girl, but she definitely wasn't a master. She had a long way to go before she could measure up the master assassin Natasha Romanoff was.

She didn't know that she would come to loathe it almost as much as she loathed herself. If there was anything Natasha Romanoff hated more than her Black Widow persona, it was herself. Her _real_ self. Clint managed to mend some of that over time, but nothing can completely heal the kind of psychological hell she had to go through.

Of course, tiny Natalia didn't know that. Tiny Natalia only wanted to do her trainers and country proud.

"I know you're awake, Talia," Clint whispered softly. She could hear a smile in his voice.

"How?" She turned her head to stare at him, and found him closer than what she anticipated. Damn, she didn't even hear him cross the room.

' _Sloppy, stupid. Concentrate, Natalia. You're better than this.'_

She shivered as Madam B's steady voice resonated in her head, and she had to make use of all her willpower not to put her hands against her ears. Clint would think that she was crazy. It wasn't too far from the truth, but still.

"Your breathing pattern," he instructed, kneeling at the side of her bed, "it's too quick to be natural."

She nodded, classifying the information in her head. She also noted that if he knew that, he must be in the same line of work as her. She looked him up and down and noticed his callused hands, and raw fingers. His lean arms were muscled, but not as much as they could've been.

It could only mean one thing.

"You're an archer," she pointed out, and she saw surprise cross his face. He wasn't hiding his emotions from her. Idiot. She knew how to use every sentiment he felt against him. She _could_ use every emotion he's felt up until now against him. She could kill him in the way he fears most. She could do all of that with a smile on her face. She didn't want to, though.

"That I am," he nodded with a smile. "You're very clever, Talia."

She felt a warm feeling bloom in her chest at the compliment but didn't let anything show on her face.

She didn't know that Clint could read Natasha better than anyone. He knew that he practically made her day when he said that.

"Do you feel okay enough for people to visit you?" He asked her, taking her hand in his and rubbing it gently.

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. People wanted to see _her_?

"Me?" She pointed to her chest, the expression of shock still on her face.

Clint chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Yeah, Talia. I told you, we love you here."

"Who?" She asked disbelievingly, and despite herself, she grew excited at the prospect. People loved her. _Her._ That's never happened to her before.

She willed the smile to disappear from her face. All this… was a lie. It had to be. She unlovable. How can someone love an emotionless killing machine? It was going to disappear from within her grasp one day and that would absolutely break her if she got attached. She needed to distance herself. She needed to get her emotions in check.

But, as a child who wasn't given nearly enough attention for the past few years, Natalia couldn't help herself but latch onto the warmth provided by Clint and the others. She was bathing in their affection and taking it all in- yep, she definitely liked the feeling of being loved. It was so new and refreshing. Too bad, it won't last.

"Tony and Pepper. Said they wanted to talk to you, and maybe buy some clothes for you and everything."

She ignored every alarm bell ringing in her head, because _'why don't you already have clothes for me? You made it seem like I've been here a while and like I know you all. You made it seem like I'm simply amnesiac. So why don't you already have clothes for me?'_ and continued to smile at Clint.

It was her real smile, too. She was being lied to and she was still smiling like an ignorant… girl.

' _Damn it, Natalia, have we taught you nothing?'_ She heard Madame B's voice again.

' _Yes, you did. I am trying to forget what you taught me. I want to be here. I want to live here. I want to be loved.'_

' _Oh poor Natalia… If only there was someone out there who actually cared for you…'_ The memory of Petrovich took over so violently she gasped and covered her mouth in terror. She looked up at Clint with tears filling her eyes.

"You've always had such vivid memories," Clint whispered, a shadow crossing his face, like he's already had to snap her out of her own prison of a mind a number of times before in the past, and pushed some of her hair from her forehead. "Don't worry, Nat. You're not there anymore. You're here. With _me._ They'll have to go through me before they can ever dream of touching you."

She did a double take when she discerned the sincere love in his voice. He loved her. There was no way that many raw emotions were lies.

She stared into his eyes for a few seconds, and all she could see was sincerity and determination. What the _hell_ was going on?

A part of her reciprocated those feelings fully. She loved Clint. He was warm, genuine, funny and protective. He was real. She didn't know how or why, but she felt like Clint was the only thing she had left. And she's known him for literally a few hours.

"Okay," she whispered, the haunted look in her eyes diminishing considerably. So much, that Clint felt his heart lighten a bit.

There was a knock on the door, and Clint stood up, shooting a grin at her. "Here they are. I'll leave you guys alone."

"You'll come back, right?" She asked, and hated how her voice trembled at the thought of never seeing him again.

His smile faltered for a millisecond. "Of course, Nat. I'll always come back. We're partners okay? Forever and always."

"Forever and always," she repeated with a nod, and Clint had to get out of the room before he burst into sobs in front of Natalia.

His Tasha… was gone. He was going to have to accept the possibility of her never coming back. He knew there was a gigantic chance of Stark not being able to reverse whatever the fuck he did to her. So why did it hurt so bad, when he already knew all of those things?

Pepper and Tony made their way into Natalia's room, Pepper with a wrapped gift in her arms.

They saw her sitting up on the bed, a small, uncertain smile playing on her lips like she didn't know if she was allowed to exhibit that specific emotion. Like she didn't even know how to truly smile anymore.

Pepper approached first, a warm look on her face. She made sure to appear as open as possible. She didn't want Natalia to perceive her as a threat. God knows she doesn't want to die so young.

"Hello, Natalia," she sat on the bed, and cupped her cheek, lightly passing her thumb over her pale skin.

Natalia's smile brightened a fraction, and Pepper patted herself on the back.

She withdrew her hand and handed her the gift. "Tony and I thought you might appreciate this. Do you like to read, Natalia?"

At her eager nod, Pepper laughed.

"Open it," she urged, and Natalia took it as her cue to tear open the wrapping, and the box, to reveal a Stark-issue tablet inside.

Natalia took it out and examined it, turning it in her hands with a confused expression on her face.

"I don't know what that is," she deadpanned, looking at Pepper helplessly.

The strawberry blonde laughed. "You can get whatever book you want to read on this. You can play games, and solve puzzles, and watch movies. Here, I'll show you."

Pepper then proceeded to explain how to turn on the thing, and how to purchase books (Stark made sure to tinker with the tablet so the whole process could be easier for a child) under the watchful, and affectionate gaze of a genius billionaire.

In a matter of minutes, she had already downloaded two books.

"Good girl!" Pepper praised, and Natalia beamed. That was definitely new. She liked praise. No one's ever praised her before.

"We were also thinking," Stark supplied from where he was standing, "that we could take you shopping when you get better? Bruce said that'd be in a couple of days."

Natalia stared for a while. "You… I can go _out_?"

The couple looked at each other in confusion. "Yeah, you can. Why? Was it different back in… Russia?" Pepper asked, for lack of better words.

"Yes. We were supposed to stay inside," Natalia pouted, "but I always managed to sneak out to play in the snow. I like snow."

Little did she know, she would get caught when she was thirteen, and as a result, she would stay in brainwashing for three days as a punishment.

"You're lucky! We're in New York, so it snows a lot here. Look," Pepper mentioned the glass door leading to the balcony, and Natalia's eyes positively _glowed_ at the sight.

"IT'S SNOWING!" She screeched and tried to jump out of the bed.

Pepper's cautious hand on her arm stopped her from moving. Literally. The girl froze when she felt the woman's hand on her.

"Natalia, be careful, you'll hurt yourself," she chided in a way that she hoped wasn't too rough. She didn't want to be the cause of a mental breakdown or something of the sort. Natalia regressing, or going into a PTSD attack wasn't what anyone needed at the moment, especially since she had a gaping hole in her chest that was barely held together by Banner's stitches.

Natalia hung her head in shame and tensed in a way that told both adults that she was expecting a beating.

Tony decided to laugh it off. "When you get better, I promise to take you to Central Park, and you'll play till your butt freezes, deal?"

Natalia relaxed and nodded her head with a smile.

"Bruce told us not to crowd you, so we're gonna leave you alone to rest a bit, okay?" Pepper smiled at her, even taking the liberty of ruffling her hair. She was surprised when Natalia leaned into her touch, with a beam that made Pepper's heart jump. Oh, _fuck_. She was _adorable_. "Don't read too much, you really need to rest."

Tony approached her too after Pepper went out of the room, knelt beside her bed, and winked at her. "Don't listen to Pepper. You do whatever you want," he whispered conspiratorially, knowing very well that giving Natasha liberties was going to help her bloom and develop under their care.

He also knew that if adult Natasha remembered anything from her time as a kid, he wanted to be her favorite. You know, to avoid _dying_.

He booped her nose with his index finger with a smile and followed his fiancée out of the room.

A couple of hours passed, and Natasha was well past the middle of Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone. She already had a soft spot for Ron Weasley, Potter's funny sidekick, mainly because he reminded her of Clint, and Hermione, because she was smart and strong.

A knock on her door made her head snap up in curiosity. She found the teen, who sprinted out of the living room the day before, poking his head in with a terrified look on his face.

She titled her head, at him and Peter sighed in embarrassment.

"Can I- uh, can I come in? Please?" He squeaked the last part and cursed his puberty and creaky voice.

Natalia set her tablet aside and straightened up in her bed, nodding at him. She was absolutely expressionless like she didn't really know wat to make of Peter.

She reminded him of when he first met the adult her. She had kicked Tony's butt for getting a child into this, and had assured him in the coldest voice he had ever heard, while he was trembling in the corner, formerly hiding behind Mr. Stark and almost pissing his pants, that he didn't want to get in this world so young. Now he understood why.

Looking at the small, cute assassin in front of him, he realized that she was speaking from experience. His spider mom has always wanted what was best for him, after all.

He went into the room slowly, his spider senses screaming at him to back the fuck off.

He ignored them and went to sit on the bed next to her.

"I… I'm sorry for bolting yesterday. I wasn't feeling good," he apologized, scratching the back of his neck. "It wasn't because of you! It's just that, uh, I just lost my… mom, recently."

Something resembling understanding crossed Natalia's face, and he felt his heart squeeze in his chest painfully. A child so young shouldn't be able to look at him with so much pain, understanding, and _experience_.

"It's okay. I'm sorry about your mom. I… I don't remember mine," she whispered the last bit, staring off into the distance, her eyes unfocused.

Okay. He needed a distraction. And _fast_. His eyes flashed to her tablet, and he managed a small smile when he saw that she was reading.

"Harry Potter? Is that the first book?" He asked her, pointing at the tablet. He's wanted to introduce his spider mom to the series for a long time now, but he's never had the chance. Maybe he could do it now?

"Yeah," Natalia answered, her eyes losing that haunted look, and a hint of a smile starting to appear on her face. She took ahold of her tablet excitedly and turned it towards him. "There's a troll in the dungeons."

He grinned at the laugh in her eyes and allowed himself to relax back on the bed. Yeah, that wasn't so hard. He could do this. He could ignore the tugs at his heart when he passes in front of the ballet room. He could ignore the pictures that riddled his room and his phone gallery. He could do that if it meant getting a smile from Natalia.

He really wanted to brighten a small part of her childhood. Maybe that way she wouldn't look so distraught when he mentions Disney movies, or maybe she wouldn't pull out a gun at the slightest loud noise.

He needed to be there for her like she's always been there for her. He's the older one now.

"When you finish this book, we can watch the movie together if you want?" He asked with a smile, and her eyes lit up instantly.

"There are _movies_?!"

"Yeah!" He answered with almost as much enthusiasm. "I have so many things to teach you."

At Natalia's confused look, he grinned mischievously. He pulled out his phone and looked up 'vine compilations' on YouTube. This was going to be _a lot_ of fun.

* * *

 **Yep, that's it!**

 **Next up: Pepper and Tony take Natasha shopping and Nick Fury visits. Natalia takes a liking to Thor.**

 **Please review if you liked it :3 Tell me what you wanna see next!**


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